The tension in the cramped hospital room was so thick it felt like a physical weight, pressing the oxygen out of the air. Dominic stood over Elena's bed, a titan of shadow and iron, his presence making the institutional walls feel like they were closing in. The bent metal of the bed rail—a testament to his raw, unchecked power—remained as a silent warning between them.
Elena lay against the thin pillows, her face a mask of pale defiance. Her heart was a drum of war, but her body felt like lead. Every time she looked at Dominic, she didn't see the man who had just shouted for joy; she saw the man who had claimed her in the dark, and now, he was claiming her future.
"I won't do it, Dominic," she whispered, her voice trembling but sharp. "I don't want your money. I don't want your 'protection.' I want my life back. I want to go back to my farm, to my father, and pretend you are nothing but a scar that will eventually fade."
Dominic stepped closer, his shadow engulfing her completely. He leaned down, his face inches from hers, the scent of expensive cologne and cold adrenaline radiating off him.
"Too late," he countered, his gaze dark, territorial, and utterly unyielding. "You're carrying a Thorne. The rules of your 'quiet life' died the moment that test came back positive. You move into my mansion today, or I'll make you come by force. I will have Marcus call the local authorities, I will have this wing of the hospital locked down, and I will carry you myself. Choose how you want to arrive, Elena: as my guest, or as my prisoner."
Elena's eyes welled with hot, angry tears. "You're a monster."
"I am a father," he growled, the word sounding like a vow. "And I will not leave my child in a house that is falling apart in a village I could buy with my pocket change."
Dominic stepped back, giving her a sliver of space, though his eyes never left her. He turned to Marcus, who was standing by the door like a stone gargoyle. "Start the engine. Call the house staff. I want the East Wing prepared. Top-tier medical equipment, 24-hour nursing on standby, and the finest linens. If she so much as sneezes, I want a specialist in the room before she can grab a tissue."
"Understood, sir," Marcus replied, his voice calm, though he shot a sympathetic glance toward the bed.
Elena looked at Sarah, who had been watching the exchange with wide, terrified eyes. Sarah was a village girl; she had never seen a man move the world with a single sentence before. She saw the sheer scale of Dominic's obsession, and she knew—deep down—that Elena was fighting a tidal wave with a wooden spoon.
"Elena..." Sarah started, her voice soft.
"Don't, Sarah," Elena snapped, her breath hitching. "Don't tell me to go with him."
Sarah moved to the bedside, gently pushing past Dominic, who allowed it only because he saw the way Elena's hand reached out for her friend. Sarah took Elena's hand and leaned in, her voice a low murmur meant only for them.
"El, look at him," Sarah whispered, glancing at Dominic's rigid back. "He's not a man who hears the word 'no.' If you stay here, he will stay here. He will turn this village upside down. He'll hover over your father's hospital bed. He'll follow your siblings to school. Is that the life you want for them? A life under a microscope?"
Elena's grip on Sarah's hand tightened until her knuckles were white. "I can't be alone with him, Sarah. I'm scared. Not of what he'll do to me... but of what he'll make me become."
Sarah looked up at Dominic. She saw the way his jaw was set, the way he watched Elena's every blink. He was a man possessed, but Marcus was right—he wasn't a psychopath. He was just a man who had never been taught how to love without owning.
"He won't hurt you," Sarah whispered to Elena. "He's too obsessed with that baby to let a hair on your head be harmed. And think about your dad, El. The specialists in Ottawa... the ones Dominic can afford... they could actually help him. You can't do that here."
Elena closed her eyes, a single tear escaping and rolling into her hair. The logic was a bitter pill to swallow. To save her family, she had to surrender herself. Again.
Elena took a long, shuddering breath. She opened her eyes and looked at Dominic, who was waiting for her answer like a predator waiting for a sign of weakness.
"I'll go," Elena said, her voice sounding hollow, like it was coming from a great distance.
Dominic's entire body seemed to relax, a microscopic release of tension in his shoulders. "A wise choice, Elena."
"But," she interrupted, her voice gaining a sudden, fierce strength. "I have a condition. One that is non-negotiable. If you want me in that house, if you want me to cooperate and stay healthy for this... this child... then I'm not going alone."
Dominic narrowed his eyes. "Name it."
Elena squeezed Sarah's hand so hard it must have hurt. "Sarah comes with me. She lives in that mansion, in a room near mine. She is my only friend, the only person I trust. If you try to isolate me in your 'golden cage,' I will wither away, and I don't care what you do to me. I only go if Sarah is under your roof."
Marcus shifted by the door, surprised by the request. Dominic, however, didn't hesitate for a second. To him, Sarah was an insignificant detail—a piece of furniture required to keep his prize comfortable. If harboring a farm girl was the price for Elena's compliance, he would have bought Sarah an entire apartment complex.
"Fine," Dominic said, his voice decisive. "Miss Miller is welcome. Marcus, arrange for her transport and see that her affairs here are settled. She will have whatever she needs."
Sarah gasped, looking between the billionaire and her friend. "Me? In a mansion? Elena, I... I've never even been on a plane!"
"You're coming with me, Sarah," Elena said, her eyes pleading. "Please. Don't leave me with him."
Sarah looked at the raw desperation in Elena's face and then at the dark, intense man who now owned their lives. She took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm coming. I'm not letting you go into that lion's den without someone to watch your back."
Dominic stepped forward, reaching down to tuck a stray hair behind Elena's ear. His touch was possessive, a claim that made her skin crawl even as it sparked a treacherous warmth.
Dominic murmured, his thumb grazing her cheek. "Let's go home, Elena. Your new life begins now."
As Dominic signaled for the orderlies to prepare her for transport, Elena looked out the small hospital window at the Canadian sky one last time. She was leaving the dirt, the orchards, and her freedom behind. She was entering the world of the Thornes—a world of silk, steel, and a man who would never, ever let her go.